


Netflix & Chill

by treepyful (treeperson)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Twyla Sands, Twyla Sands' Freckles, Vaginal Fingering, adoring Stevie Budd, really it’s just that Twyla’s a lil’ bossy and Stevie likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29090850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treeperson/pseuds/treepyful
Summary: “You enjoying the movie?” Stevie flicked her eyes up to meet Twyla’s curious gaze.“Yeah,” she lied. “It’s good.”
Relationships: Stevie Budd/Twyla Sands
Comments: 16
Kudos: 20





	Netflix & Chill

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh, I haven’t written an E rated anything in _years_ , so my apologies for any spots of rust that you may see. No apologies for the E rating itself, though. These two deserve it.
> 
> Thanks to The Ladies Room in general and samwhambam in particular for the encouragement.

This movie was boring.

If you’d asked Stevie what it was even about, she wouldn’t have been able to answer you, not properly. Something about foxes? Zoos? Global warming? Shit. It was a documentary, which was normally something she could get behind, but it just wasn’t clicking tonight. Maybe, she thought, she was just extra tired. Or maybe she could blame it on Twyla’s homemade wine, which was hitting her harder than it usually did.

But maybe she could blame it on the way Twyla’s cardigan had slipped off her shoulder about twenty minutes ago and revealed her gorgeous freckles to the world. To be fair to Stevie’s attention span, the freckles were extremely distracting, a scattered constellation that dotted across Twyla’s pale skin and disappeared underneath the sleeve of her sweater and the neckline of her dress. Stevie knew she kept staring, her concentration slipping further and further away from the movie as she visually connected-the-dots into shapes.

“You enjoying the movie?” Stevie flicked her eyes up to meet Twyla’s curious gaze.

“Yeah,” she lied. “It’s good.” Twyla smiled, a little knowing, and Stevie huffed out a laugh. “Okay, I’m not really paying attention. Sorry.”

Twyla leaned over to kiss Stevie briefly, just a simple press of lips. “It’s okay, Stevie. You don’t have to like it.”

“I do like it.” Probably. “I’m just… finding other things more interesting, is all.” She kissed Twyla’s shoulder while holding her gaze, catching the flicker of heat that appeared behind the green.

“Mmm, is that so?” Twyla asked as she shrugged her shoulder slightly into the kiss.

“Well.” Stevie introduced a little bit of tongue, wetting the freckles under her lips. “Yeah.”

Twyla nudged Stevie’s face up and caught her in a kiss that started out slow and sweet but ended up slow and filthy. Stevie swallowed a sigh, pleased with this unexpected pivot away from foxes, zoos, and/or climate crises, and relaxed into Twyla’s lead. Twyla unfolded her legs from under herself, pulling away slightly from Stevie as she straightened and dropped her feet to the floor. Stevie was about to close the gap, her hand running up the length of Twyla’s thigh as she leaned in, when Twyla touched a single finger to her breastbone to stop her. She smiled at Stevie’s confusion. “You should do things you’re interested in, no?” she asked, and slowly spread her legs.

Electricity zinged over Stevie’s skin at the look on Twyla’s face, mischievous and playful and a little demanding, and she felt her lips curl into a smile without permission. “I probably should,” she responded, dipping her fingers under the skirt of Twyla’s dress and retracing the path up her thigh along her warm skin. Twyla shifted her feet a little further apart, far more than necessary to admit Stevie’s hand, and Stevie needed no further prompting to slide off the couch and kneel between Twyla’s legs.

Twyla’s smile was small but pleased, curving as sweetly as the hand she placed along Stevie’s jaw, her thumb sweeping over her cheekbone. Stevie nuzzled into the touch slightly, delighted and a little embarrassed about it, then met Twyla’s eyes as she licked her lips and pressed a wet kiss to the inside of her knee. Twyla bit her lip and Stevie went warm inside, an excited sort of happiness igniting in her chest.

The loss of eye contact when Stevie ducked under the hem of Twyla’s skirt was regrettable – Twyla really did make the most gorgeous facial expressions when she was wound up – but if this is how they were playing, Stevie wasn’t going to argue about it. She started licking and kissing her way up one leg, slowly chasing the trail of freckles over Twyla’s soft skin, and then switched to the other leg when her nose grazed Twyla’s underwear. The frustrated little grunt Twyla let out at the tease made Stevie smile as she made her way back up, wiggling her shoulders under Twyla’s knees for better access.

Honestly, Stevie loved this bit, the slow build of energy before things got frantic. She loved feeling how Twyla’s thighs flexed under her hands, how the scent drifting through the close space under the skirt changed into something warm and wanton, and how Twyla dug her heels into Stevie’s back in an attempt to direct her towards the damp patch growing on her underwear.

But while she loved it, she didn’t love it enough to delay what was coming next. She went where she was pulled, licking at Twyla through her underwear and revelling in the quiet gasp that shot out of Twyla’s mouth. The pressure against her back eased slightly, keeping Stevie where she was but not pressing further, so Stevie settled in to tease Twyla through the fabric, breathing hot air over her and grazing her with lips and tongue and fingertips, over and over, until Twyla was writhing.

“Take them off, Stevie.” Twyla’s voice was tight, reedy, and Stevie kissed her one last time before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and tugging them down her legs. She emerged from under the skirt with a smirk and dropped the underwear to the floor as she raked her eyes over Twyla. She looked languid, just this side of dishevelled, the start of a flush riding high on her cheeks that set off the red of her slightly open mouth, and she had one hand tucked inside the top of her dress to cup her breast. Meeting Stevie’s eyes, Twyla tilted her head, a little imperious, a little _weren’t you doing something_ , and fuck if Stevie didn’t love it when she got all pushy.

Twyla tensed under Stevie’s hands as she ran them up her legs yet again, pushing her dress up and out of the way. The first touch of tongue to newly bared skin made her twitch and Stevie dug her fingers into her hips to still her. Twyla was already so wet, leaking onto Stevie’s tongue as she licked and kissed, slicking her thumbs as they pressed in and spread her apart, smearing over her chin with each jolt of her hips, and Stevie was incandescent with it all, lit up inside as she watched Twyla slowly shift from _mostly composed_ to _squirming disaster_ under her mouth.

Twyla’s hand worked its way into Stevie’s hair, first as an encouraging stroke and then eventually as a grip, pulling Stevie impossibly closer when she slid her tongue into her. Twyla’s fist tightened as she clenched down, and Stevie felt herself squeeze and pulse in solidarity, tilting her hips against empty air as Twyla ground down on her mouth. Stevie closed her eyes as she let Twyla steer her mouth to where she wanted it, and she lost herself in the taste and feel of Twyla, her senses completely overrun with everything Twyla demanded and offered.

As Twyla started getting louder, sighing and huffing and gasping with less restraint, Stevie narrowed her focus a little. She licked up over Twyla’s clit, plump and firm on her tongue, and started sucking in steady, rhythmic pulls that had Twyla moaning low and deep, her thighs quivering on either side of Stevie’s head as her hips pumped up into her mouth.

“Oh god, Stevie,” Twyla gasped, interrupting the liquid sounds and strained breaths. “There, right there, oh my god, keep going.”

Stevie did. The hand Twyla had wound into her hair didn’t give her much choice, pressing her mouth against her clit with an intensity borne of desperation, but that was okay, Stevie wasn’t complaining in the least. She didn’t want to do anything else but suck and lick and watch as Twyla, gasping and shuddering, threw her head back and arched her hips and came with a wail.

Smoothly following her movement, Stevie kept her mouth on Twyla but eased up on the suction and pressure. She would be able to come again with the right encouragement and the fact that Stevie knew what kind of encouragement she needed, knew how to make sweet and sensible Twyla Sands fall to screaming pieces multiple times in a row, sent waves of pleasure through her body to settle between her legs, hot and heavy.

Twyla was panting, her breaths paired with a steady whimper, and Stevie met her eyes with a raised brow.

“Again,” Twyla managed, her hand gripping tighter in Stevie’s hair, and Stevie doubled down. Her own hips rolled back and forth to the rhythm of her sucking, and she desperately wanted to press a hand over the crotch of her jeans, to touch herself in any way to relieve the ache. However, her hands were busy elsewhere, one gripping Twyla’s hip in a slightly futile attempt to control her thrashing and one firmly rubbing a thumb over her asshole.

“Yes, yes, yes, Stevie, oh god.” Twyla’s voice crept higher and higher with each word, sliding up the register as Stevie steadily brought her closer and closer to another orgasm, and she eventually let out a sob as she tipped over the edge. Stevie gentled her through it and waited, ready to go again if instructed.

But Twyla pushed her head away, twitching with overstimulation and whining on her exhales, and Stevie went easily, leaning her temple against Twyla’s knee as she fought to catch her breath. She wiped the back of her hand over her chin and mouth, her tongue flicking over her swollen lips to catch one last taste, and she kissed Twyla’s leg, leaving a sticky impression behind. Twyla squirmed at the gentle touch, and Stevie smiled faintly, torn between the satisfaction of having so thoroughly taken Twyla apart and the fucking _agonising_ levels of arousal searing through her own veins. She was tight and hot and wet, and if her nose wasn’t still completely filled with Twyla’s lingering scent, Stevie was sure she’d be able to smell herself even through her jeans. She pressed a hand to the front of her pants and whimpered, her hips bucking into the touch. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , she was going to explode if she didn’t get some deliberate friction soon. She’d just popped the button on her jeans and was in the middle of wiggling her hand down to touch herself when Twyla, still a little breathy, said “Get up here,” and tugged at her shoulder.

Never one to turn down an order delivered in that voice, Stevie climbed onto the couch and threw a leg over Twyla’s lap when directed, immediately getting caught up in Twyla’s unrestrained kissing, deep and rich and tasting of wine and satisfaction. She licked into Twyla’s mouth and brought her hands up to bury themselves in her hair, counterpoint to Twyla’s hands smoothing along her thighs and up beneath her t-shirt. Stevie ground her hips down against nothing, the soft cotton of Twyla’s dress bunched under her thighs providing none of the pressure she craved, and she stifled the urge to beg for something to relieve the pressure.

But one of the best parts about Twyla was her ability to anticipate needs – it was what made her such a good waitress, a great friend, and a fucking fantastic lover. So when Twyla’s hands grazed Stevie’s stomach as they roughly tugged at the zip of her jeans, Stevie’s gasp wasn’t of surprise but rather of gratitude. Twyla’s slim hand slid into the open fly to gently cup Stevie over her underwear and Stevie bucked her hips as she groaned with relief. The relief was temporary though, as her thighs trembled and her breath shook in anticipation when Twyla stroked her middle finger up into her through the soaking wet cotton. Twyla smiled against Stevie’s cheek.

“Please,” Stevie whimpered, and Twyla rewarded her with a kiss and her hand retreating to return on the other side of her underwear. The first slide of Twyla’s fingers, clever and sure, against Stevie’s slick skin had shivers running up her spine, a whine spilling from her chest. She was so wet – she could feel the fabric of her underwear peeling away from her as Twyla slid her fingers down, slowly moving around and around in a touch that filled her belly with fire.

“Oh, fuck, Twyla,” she groaned, rocking her hips back and forth over Twyla’s fingers as Twyla nipped at the edge of her jaw. “Oh god, please.”

“Yeah, babe,” Twyla murmured, licking up Stevie’s neck, sucking on her pulse point. “What do you need?”

And fuck if Twyla didn’t know exactly what Stevie needed, she was right there, she knew. Stevie whined again and Twyla scraped her teeth along her neck, sending Stevie’s whine higher in pitch.

“In,” she gasped, tilting her head down to rest her brow against Twyla’s. “Get your fingers in me.” For the love of _god_.

Twyla hummed and pressed a gentle kiss to Stevie’s panting mouth. “Good girl.”

The first push in always hurt a little bit, that initial stretch to accommodate regardless of size or arousal always a little uncomfortable, and Twyla’s single finger was no exception in how it set off an ache that was as sudden as it was intense. But Stevie loved it, loved the burn that melted away into simple heat, loved how it centred her for a moment and brought her back down from the heights of pleasure to remind her that the pleasure was actually coming from this body that she owned, not from the aether.

She opened her eyes, unsure when she had closed them, and blinked the fog away. Twyla was waiting, her hand still and her head tilted slightly as she watched Stevie come back to herself, and she smiled when Stevie focused on her again. “Hey.”

Stevie kissed her. “Hey.”

Twyla laughed, just a little giggle, and caught Stevie’s lower lip between her teeth, biting down. Stevie jerked, then moaned and repeated the motion, rolling against Twyla’s hand as it sent sparks through her. Twyla released her lip to trail kisses down her jaw, her neck, and Stevie flinched whenever she nipped at her sensitive skin. The first bite on her breast, however, ripped a moan from her throat, and Stevie thrust her chest forward into Twyla’s mouth, pressing into the heat and pain that was only slightly dulled by the shirt and bralette she was still wearing. Twyla sucked and bit and tugged, and Stevie braced her hands on Twyla’s shoulders, digging her fingers in to steady herself against the riot of sensation flooding her body.

Her hips were rocking – mostly without her permission but she really couldn’t care less – and pressing down into Twyla’s palm to rub her clit along that perfect ridge at the base of her fingers. It wasn’t enough though, so Stevie swallowed, wet her lips, and spoke with a rasp.

“Another?”

Twyla smiled and pulled away from Stevie’s chest, leaving an obscene wet patch across her breast. “What do we say?”

“Please, Twyla,” Stevie managed, rotating her hips in circles over Twyla’s hand. “Please.”

“Since you asked so pretty,” Twyla said, and Stevie thought about blushing, thought about shying away from such fond words, but that was before a second finger joined the first and oh, yes, that was what she needed. She moaned, low and long, the note breaking halfway through when she felt Twyla’s other hand settle on her lower back. It became a firm pressure that moved with her thrusting hips, supporting and encouraging and gentle, and Stevie relaxed into it, into the realisation that Twyla would correct her she faltered.

Stevie leaned down, resting her forehead against Twyla’s once more, and let her quiet pleas for more (hell if she knew more _what_ – just more) whisper into the warm space between their faces as her hips moved and moved and moved. Twyla’s thumb started circling over her clit, her fingers curling inside her, and Stevie felt it begin, a slow flood deep in her belly that would build and build until it peaked and shattered everything.

It didn’t take long. It rarely did with Twyla.

Stevie erupted in a flash of lightning that started between her legs then went on to surge through her entire body, white and bright and hot-but-cold. She gritted her teeth against a shout as every muscle from her ribs to her knees tightened and tensed, curling her down to rest her head on Twyla’s shoulder while she rode the waves of pleasure that overtook her. Her hips jerked forward, forward, forward on Twyla’s fingers as they chased the tail end of the rush, sending spikes of overwhelming sensation through her saturated nerve endings until she stopped, shaky and sensitive and gasping for breath.

Twyla was still gently pulsing her fingers inside of her and it was suddenly too much, too intense. Stevie clumsily swatted at her wrist and shivered through aftershocks as Twyla slid her hand out to grip her hip beneath her open jeans instead, leaving a trail of wet warmth on Stevie’s goosebumpy skin.

“Jesus,” Stevie slurred, panting into the crook of Twyla’s neck. 

“No,” Twyla murmured, running her hand up Stevie’s back in a soothing stroke. “Twyla, remember?”

Stevie didn’t have the energy do much more than snort, but she put what energy she did have into it. “You dork.”

“Your dork.” Twyla’s smile was audible in her voice, and Stevie just nodded her agreement. It was true.

They sat in the quiet for a few long minutes, Stevie’s line of sight lined up with the pulse point in Twyla’s neck so she could watch as it slowed, as her own racing heartbeat came back to something sustainable. Twyla’s kiss to her cheek was a question, gentle and undemanding, and Stevie sat up slightly in answer, catching Twyla’s mouth with her own. The kisses were lazy, sloppy, sweet and soft as they passed them back and forth, and if Stevie ever got the chance to choose her own death, she’d opt to drown in post-sex kisses with Twyla.

“We should watch boring movies more often,” Stevie mumbled into Twyla’s lips, too lethargic to pull back to speak. Twyla broke away, her peals of sudden laughter music to Stevie’s ears. Hiding her smile against Twyla’s temple, Stevie laid a sloppy kiss to the slightly sweat-frizzy hair there.

“You choose next time,” Twyla said, still giggling. “Boring movie night.”

“Okay.” Stevie shrugged, accepting the responsibility. After all, it wouldn’t be hard – when the competition was Twyla, almost any movie would be boring.

**Author's Note:**

> Hot. Hot sex.


End file.
